Dangerous
by Crazy Constructeur
Summary: What if Chat Noir was bad, a criminal, a thief? And Ladybug never existed? Only Marinette, a shy girl whose parents own a small bakery? Well I don't know for you but in this universe Chat Noir was always a villain.


What if Chat Noir was bad, a criminal, a thief? And Ladybug never existed? Only Marinette, a girl whose parents own a small bakery? Well I don't know for you but in this universe Chat Noir was always a villain.

~(° • °)~

A sharp ringing, police officers running, chasing, a black blur, sharp laughter, a flash of green then silence. In Paris that was the norm these days.

It started a year and a half ago, when mysterious beings called akumas that could control humans started popping up here and there, a mysterious person dressed in a black cat leather suit started taking them out.

The people were relieved, they thought that a saviour had appeared, only to be crushed when they learned why he defeated them:

" _Well I plan on becoming the N°1 Paris villain, so if someone was to surpass me it would be quite annoying" he said with a sneer_

From then on he robbed banks, jewellery and art, he divulged the secrets of the rich men and destroyed their resources like dust. He was truly a frightening man.

The meeting between Chat and little red was not planned, not at all, yet it seemed that it was fate that brought them together.

* * *

He'd had enough, the gash on his leg was killing him and his pursuer still wouldn't give up. He leaped on the railing of a balcony before turning around just in time to see the police man catch up to him.

The policeman stopped and looked around before his eyes landed on Chat Noir. He gave a long groan of frustration while looking for a way to reach him.

With a smirk Chat jumped on the roof and made his way through Paris. He could see the people whispering as he passed, some even going as far as pointing their fingers at him. A snarl unconsciously escaped him, he hated being watched.

His leg twitched as if to remind him of his wound and the pounding in his head intensified, he could feel a headache coming along.

Seeing a wide balcony he decided to stop and treat his injuries. He swept his eyes over it as he landed and quickly realised that there was a trapdoor.

As he started taking out the blade from his leg he heard a rustle under him.

With a creak and a big thud the trapdoor opened, a head poked out, and he saw the blue eyes of a girl that looked his age.

She stared at him before staring a his hand holding a dagger with his blood on it. The red ribbons in her hair were were so vivid and eye catching it caught his attention. They trailed behind her like snakes stopping right before her hips.

 _She doesn't know_ that his mind whispered _._

She squeaked before ducking her head inside. Baffled he stared at the trapdoor before going back to inspecting his wounds, it seemed it would need stitches.

A few minutes later the girl popped her head out again and ogled him. Exasperated he turned with a glare on his face about to snap at her, before she interrupted him:

"Does it hurt?" she said her head tilted to a side

"What do you think?!" he snapped

"Um, would you like some help?"

"Unless you know how to stitch my skin you can get lost"

He snarled at her while baring his teeth, hopefully she'd get the hint and leave.

She stared at his wound shortly before ducking back inside.

 _"Probably to call the police"_ he thought

A shuffle of steps alerted him to the fact that the girl was not calling the police but in fact coming back.

"What now" he groaned

"I'm good at sewing so it should be fine" she said with a sheepish smile

In her hand she held some thread, a needle and a bunch of other stuff he honestly couldn't give a fuck about. She had a determined face but somehow that didn't reassure him much.

"Okay so let me get this straight, you've never had any experience sewing anything except for fabric and for some reason you think I'm just going to let you sew my skin?"

Incredulous, he stared at the girl who clearly was out of her mind. Did her parents not teach her to not speak to strangers. He even looked suspicious for goodness sake. Did she talk to every random person with a wound and a knife (covered in blood he might add) in their hand?

"Well when you say it like that, listen do you want me to stitch you up or not?"

He could see she was become frustrated and knowing he had no better options (it wasn't as if he could just waltz into a hospital) he gave in.

"Alright, just make it quick already" he answered moodily

She laid a clean towel, some disinfectant and some bandages. Gently she set his leg upon the towel and sprayed some disinfectant on wound, he hissed a but otherwise made no sound. After she had verified that the wound had been cleaned, she prepared the needle by coating it with antiseptic and coating the thread as well.

She looked at him and said

"This is gonna hurt"

"No worries I'm used to it"

Slowly she pushed in the needle and started to sew his leg back up. Finally she sprayed it one last time with disinfectant and prayed it would do the trick.

As far as the blond could see, she had done a pretty good job. He couldn't stay for long the police were still on his trail, he had to leave and the sooner the better. He shakily stood up and tested his leg, it wobbled slightly before firming up.

"Thanks little red"

The words rolled of his tongue and he enjoyed the sight of her blushing face. She scowled at him and was about to protest when he leapt away, the last thing she heard was his laughter ringing in her ears.


End file.
